Should Welfare Recipients Be Required Drug Test? Debate Rages On...

I haven't written anything in a while and doing so on a cell phone has been a challenge! Getting back to writing has been rewarding. Hope it is helpful for those who take the time to read!

These thoughts were prompt ed  by a post on Facebook where the question was asked whether welfare recipients should be required to pass a drug test before qualifying for benefits. While I have mixed emotions about the question itself, I was shocked by the harsh and caustic nature of many of the ensuing comments. The prevalence of hatred and misconceptions based upon false assumptions were staggering.  I literally could not believe we were having the this discussion. 


I've read through enough of the comments to see that the same old tired ideology, based largely on ignorance and false assumptions, continues to fuel this debate. It amazes me that what constitutes welfare (food stamps, housing assistance, TANF, etc) benefits to the "non-working poor" in most people's mind accounts for about 10% of our country's total welfare budget and around 5% of our entire federal budget overall. These figures were calculated by the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities in 2012. If you don't trust the CBPP's figures, you can add up the relevant  line items yourself and you'll arrive at the same percentages. In essence, this means that no more than 10% of what anyone pays annually in federal taxes goes to fund programs that assist the non-working poor. Since only a small percentage of that group actually abuse these benefits, the amount of waste here doesn't even constitute a drop in the bucket when viewed in light of the multitude of other sources of waste and abuse in our nation's budget. 

Furthermore, I am surprised that we still harbor the same negative naive image of what a welfare recipient looks like. Especially given the broad and far reaching effects of our recent recession. In fact, the face of today's average welfare recipient has drastically changed. It stands to reason given the constant decrease in wages and the never ending rise in our cost of living. 

My former father-in-law's experience is a prime example of this reality. He was an UAW electrician for 30 years, working for Caterpillar, Inc in Illinois. He made a decent living during this tenure and retired with a good pension and excellent benefits. However, his experience is a relic of the past. The person that stepped into his shoes to do the same job, possessing the same abilities and skill, is making a mere one third of what he made with no chance of ever attaining his level of hourly compensation or the quality of his benefit package (trickle down economics at its best!). This decrease in compensation and benefits is echoed time and time again throughout our country and it does not appear that any relief or substantive change is expected on the horizon. As a result, many hard working people are finding themselves unable to make ends meet and having to seek assistance, becoming new  participants in our welfare system.

Unfortunately, a significant and growing portion of our welfare expenditures (not including unemployment benefits or worker's compensation, etc) today go to assist working class people and their families. Even in a time when two income families are the norm, many are still struggling to survive. Our welfare system is no longer just a commentary on the most disadvantaged or least industrious citizens among our society. It is rather a much needed safety net, not only for those it has traditionally served, but also for a growing number of many who have historically made up the very backbone of our working class. 

Obviously, this is not how many Americans view our social programs. Asking a simple question such as should welfare recipients be required to pass a drug test to qualify for benefits is more than enough to invoke outrage. People immediately envision worthless drug addicts who are unwilling to work, living luxuriously off of the large portion of taxes they give up annually to the government. It doesn't matter that the evidence overwhelmingly suggests that the vast majority of these recipients are not addicts and could easily pass a drug test. Flordia's recent venture (2012) into this area showed that less than 3% (108) of those recieving benefits that were tested (4086) actually failed the test. In fact, this testing cost Floridians nearly 50k in direct cost, not counting the many indirect cost. Regardless of concrete evidence to the contrary, many people persist in visions of lazy people eating gourmet meals that might as well have been robbed from a working man's table!


So then, how did we arrive such a bias against providing for those less fortunate among us? Why is there such suspicion and criticism of both the mechanisms we employ to provide assistance as well as the recipients themselves? I would argue that it was intentionally forced upon us; we've been conditioned to think and feel this way. It is, in fact, the quintessential red herring. Our cultural perception of the value of social programs in general was and continues to be cultivated by a corrupt political system that is intricately skilled at creating distractions to divert focus from the real abuses within our fiscal system. Instead, our attention is manipulated to obsess on what literally amounts to nothing in the grand scheme of things. The poor and marginalized within our society are being sacrificed in an effort to subvert responsibility and to keep us so preoccupied with miniscule matters that we fail to see and demand accountability in the real line items that represent the most egregious examples of both waste and fraud. A system that allows venal politicians and their equally corrupt corporate bedfellows to literally rob the US taxpayer blind, lining their pockets with not only our contributions, but the future contributions of our children and grandchildren. 


It amazes me that we can get so incited over the potential misuse of what amounts to a mere five percent of our national budget, yet remain silent over a defense budget (one example among many) that comprises nearly a third of all US expenditures. We have long been aware of the unbelievable excess and waste in our nation's defense spending. Contracts awarded for goods and services rendered that are compensated at rates thousands of times higher than any reasonable reckoning of the fair market value of either. These contracts are knowingly negotiated and secured by people with ulterior motives and vested interest. We've endured the saga of over a decade of war that has cost us no less than four trillion dollars, with estimates as high as six trillion. The value of the human capital expended can never be quantified. While abuses within our welfare system remain anecdotal, giving rise to much speculation, our enormous defense budget represents by far the most exploited (for personal gain) fiscal liability and the greatest source of waste of the taxpayer's money. 

It's no wonder many of our elected officials would rather see us fixated on some potential freeloading drug addict who sells his or her food benefits to purchase herion. It stands to reason why our attention is intentioally misled to focus on alleged and often fictitious abuse to these welfare based line items that amount to a very small portion of taxpayer debt. God forbid a lazy non-productive member of our society leech off the system, right? What a travesty!  All the while, we are being vicimized by men who appear industrious but whose gain is robbed from the American taxpayer, not just of this generation, but of many to come. Our great great grandchildren will be subsidizing their stockpile of wealth. Of all the injustices we endure, and the multiplicity of ways in which taxpayers are robbed and their hard work exploited, welfare and social programs should truly be the least of our concerns!,

Comfort From Unlikely Sources

This will be short, but worthy of a post in my mind: 

Luke 7 tells us of the story of the woman of "ill repute" that approached Jesus in a Pharisee's home. She's weeping and we find her sitting at Jesus' feet, washing them with her tears, drying them with her hair. What a beautiful picture! I woke up thinking of this today. Where it come from, I have no clue! Not like I've spent a lot of time reading scripture of late. But, it has impacted me deeply.

Sometimes, we feel lost and helpless. The people we expect to reach out to us do not, and it hurts. Trust me, I know. But there are times when those we least expect, those of "ill repute" if you will, who step up and lend a helping hand. That is a humbling thought; one worthy of our attention. Life doesn't always give us what we want, and there are times we find ourselves in untenable situations, but comfort and hope can come from sources you never dreamed of. I've had many of those days lately, and I know.

Forsaken?

I have refrained from writing of late because I've not really been in a mental state conducive for doing so. Those who know me, you know that I have been living in my own private hell: without my wife and kids, life has been more difficult than I ever thought possible. Most times I am angry, overwhelmed in ways that is difficult to describe. I remember the movie Titanic... as the ship sank, people climbed higher and higher to avoid the inevitable. Yet, the ship was still sinking... nothing could stop it. That is sort of how I have felt. Each day I get up, I feel like I climb a little higher, yet the ship is still sinking and the inevitable is unavoidable.

Someone close to me recently told me that she'd tried to commit suicide on several occasions, and even in that, she felt like a failure. She said she felt destined to stay on this rock no matter what. Years ago, in the early days of Christian Contemporary music, there was an artist named Randy Stonehill. I remember him singing a song: "Stop the World, I Wanna Get Off!" And I must admit, I feel the same way at times. Please, no welfare checks, I am okay, and I will surivive. But, I hurt... I guess that is the point??? Who knows...

My oldest daughter recently called me. It was a bad time. She called to encourage me and to tell me about God. This was a kid whose faith was built as she sat in pews listening to her daddy preach, both as a pastor and in revivals. I had not heard her speak of God in 15 years... since I left the ministry, which was traumatic for her. Yet, she called me to tell me what God had done for her. All I could say was that I wasn't sure I believed in that anymore... how do you get to that point? It hurt her and while I tried to fix it the next day, I fear it was to no avail.

My current living arrangments necessiate that I go to the church. What a condrum for me! This is not an ordinary church, I might fair better if it were. This is a little holiness/pentecostal church that is much smaller,  but exactly like the church I grew up in. I sit there, service after service, and I hear familar songs, watch people worship in ways that is both familar and foreign. They are sincere, and I gave up judging worship styles and trying to figure out what was right, better, or legitimate a long time ago. But, I must admit, it troubles me greatly at times. Sometimes, I wish I could believe like they do for a moment.. one more time, ya know?

Most times I sit there angry, unapproachable, and rarely sober. I must admit that it is one of the most difficult things I've endured in recent days. I try to be respectful and make it through the whole service, but there are many times I have to simply walk out, unable to take anymore... In all these weeks, however, I do not think I have yet to walk in or out of that church that the words of the Psalmist hasn't resounded in my ears:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
   Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
   and by night, but find no rest. (Ps 22:1, NRSV)

I find it fitting that the gospel narrators put these words in the mouth of Jesus as he metaphorically hung, suspended between heaven and hell. In all of sacred writ, spanning the broad spectrum of religious diversity, I do not think you can ever find words depicting the depth of human despair and pain more so than those penned by the Psalmist. I must admit that I find the whole idea of God, scripture, prayer.. all those devout things that those of us of faith do, to be daunting at best of late. But, I have to admit, as well, that those words resonate with me more than any thing over the past weeks and months.

While those first words are familiar to us, the whole chapter depicts a man seeking to retain his faith. Following those words of anguish, the Psalmist cries: 

Yet you are holy,
   enthroned on the praises of Israel.
In you our ancestors trusted;
   they trusted, and you delivered them.
To you they cried, and were saved;
   in you they trusted, and were not put to shame. (Ps 22:2, NRSV)

I have spent my whole life searching, trying to believe, retain faith in the face of unbelievable odds. I wish I could connect with the Psalmist here... Myth, legend, I don't care what you call it. I find it to be stories of human hope and belief; a belief in something bigger than the despair that saturates the first verse. I am tired of feeling forsaken, of being lost and not knowing where this will all end. All the horrific portraits of despair penned by David has been my lot, and oh how I wish I could find his faith again. 

I recently remembered a story about Daniel as he was given more than he could take. Chapter 10, tells the story. First time I remember preaching the text, I was 12 and preaching a revival in Hobucken, NC. Daniel sees a vision that is too much for him. He languishes for 3 weeks... no food, no water.. he lies on his face, day after day. His lot was more than he could bear. But, hope comes.... Listen, I hate my lot, and I would do anything in this world to fix it if I could. I lie, as Daniel, and I feel like it is more than I can handle. But, help was on the way. How do we discount that?

Isn't that what we as human beings seek? Life is hard, nothing goes right all the time, does it? There are days that I would do anything to fix this situation, and then there are days when I languish in despair and anger... but, oh how I want that faith again. Daniel laid prostrate for days, and then an angel touched him. He was able to get on to his hands and knees, and from there, he is found standing and being encouraged. Daniel prayed, and his prayer was heard. I so wish I knew how to do that again...

I really do not know what the ultimate point of this post is. I wish I had some profound words of wisdom about how an absolute God can and will come and pick us up in our deepest moments of despair. I so want to believe that. I am encouraged by many who have gone before and have found peace.. have found the answer they needed. I don't know.. I just so want to believe again. And to that end, please think of me.